


Life-Affirming

by Defiler_Wyrm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Coda, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, POV Castiel, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Hunt, Proper Hygiene, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Switch Dean Winchester, Tattooed Castiel, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defiler_Wyrm/pseuds/Defiler_Wyrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That thing wasn’t gonna kill you,” Dean said, quiet but intense. “Not on my watch. You know that.”</p>
<p>Castiel’s smirk was probably a little loopy as he kissed his way down Dean’s throat to his chest. “That thing was still frankly terrifying. Ghosts are one thing. That was another. And I wanna think about something more…life-affirming.”</p>
<p>
  <i>A gratuitously pornographic unofficial “sequel”/coda to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2432489/chapters/5385656">mortgage on my body, lien on my soul</a> written for its author <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/ceeainthereforthat/">ceeainthereforthat.</a></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life-Affirming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceeainthereforthat (tori_siikanen)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ceeainthereforthat+%28tori_siikanen%29).
  * Inspired by [mortgage on my body, lien on my soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432489) by [ceeainthereforthat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceeainthereforthat/pseuds/ceeainthereforthat). 



They didn’t quite crash through the door but by god Castiel, at least, sure wanted to. He and Dean had said their goodnights to Sam at the car and made a beeline to the motel room they were sharing this week. Moments later they were leaning up against the door, fumbling to lock it without putting their desperate kisses on hold. Dean was wearing too many shirts – no matter that it’d proved a boon an hour earlier when the creature had seized an overshirt but missed the skin; what Castiel needed right now was to feel skin under his hands, warm, living skin instead of iron and dirt. He needed to taste something other than the stench of formaldehyde.

Castiel had some pretty good ideas about what he’s like to replace that taste with, actually.

Dean chuckled and pulled back to breathe. To his credit, he was still helpful in shucking off his button-downs. “Damn, Cas, not that I’m complaining but what’s gotten into you?”

“Mortal peril I guess,” Castiel offered wryly. He dove back in to claim Dean’s lips again, both of them humming pleasure, but forced himself to ease up. “I’ve heard arousal is a normal reaction to a near-death experience.”

“That thing wasn’t gonna kill you,” Dean said, quiet but intense. “Not on my watch. You know that.”

Castiel’s smirk was probably a little loopy as he kissed his way down Dean’s throat to his chest. “That thing was still frankly terrifying. Ghosts are one thing. That was another. And I wanna think about something more…life-affirming.”

Dean’s brows rose. Castiel smirked, reluctantly tearing his eyes off his boyfriend long enough to visit their bags and come back with a fistful of supplies. The moment Dean saw what was in his hands he got with the program. His jeans were around his thighs and his feet kicked apart by the time Cas returned to settle on his knees, cock half-hard already.

“Eager,” Castiel laughed. Nothing, nothing was quite so big a turn-on as enthusiastic consent. He slipped the latex glove onto his hand and set the bottle of lube down within easy reach. A glance up confirmed Dean was tracking his movements eagerly, soft lips parting for the swipe of his tongue.

“Makes two of us,” Dean breathed. “You sure you don’t want me on the bed for this…?”

Castiel shook his head and laid a hand on each side of Dean’s hips, gloved and bare. “I want you just like this.”

_I just want you._

They held each other’s gaze for the first lick. A clean bill of health for both of them meant Castiel could finally do what he’d wanted from the start: his tongue on naked flesh, the metal barbell rolling cool and smooth against the heat of Dean’s cock. It twitched with interest, stretching and flushing to its full length, though Castiel didn’t give it a chance to get there before taking it into his mouth. Dean let out a shuddering cry above him. Fingers sifted through Castiel’s hair, encouraging without controlling. They both knew full well that Dean was along for the ride. Cas had planned it this way.

Castiel propped Dean’s cock up with his ungloved hand curled around the base and sucked him down until his mouth met the circle of his own hand. Cheeks hollow, he pulled back, pierced tongue thrashing gently along the way. Between the wet heat, pressure, and steel bead, Dean’s eyes were a bit crossed, and Castiel grinned in satisfaction as he pulled off.

“Good?” he asked. Dean nodded, speechless. “Ready for more?”

Castiel rubbed circles on Dean’s hip with his gloved hand and got a more enthusiastic nod in return. A hands-free blowjob wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done, but it wasn’t the hardest by far. This wasn’t his first time giving one, anyway. Bobbing in time to the rhythm of Dean’s heaving breaths, he made quick work of lubing up a finger and setting the bottle down again. His bare hand looped back around the case of his lover’s cock, teasing Dean’s sac with the butt of his palm. The other drifted up to follow the soft perineum backwards, sliding wet and purposeful to the hot curl of muscle hidden between Dean’s cheeks.

Dean sighed and nudged his feet wider in offering. Castiel hummed approval and sucked harder, dove deeper, distracting Dean from the pressure at his hole. Or trying to, anyway – Dean was nearly always up for this, and he craned his hips up for the probe of Castiel’s fingers. His body welcomed the digit to the first knuckle without much resistance. From there, though, they would have to be more careful. He rocked the finger gently and hummed again around Dean’s cock. The little moans and gasps he coaxed out were delicious.

In time, Dean took more, begging quietly for a second finger. Castiel watched as his beautiful face contorted into a journey of pleasure and concentration. Not thrusting in either direction must have taken every ounce of his will. Nor was Castiel willing to make it easy on him: when he eased up on the suction, he pushed his fingers in deeper, and when his fingers stilled, he did criminal things with his tongue. Before long he worked his way up to rub at Dean’s prostate and that’s when the real fun began.

Under most circumstances Dean can be quiet during sex. It took time and a frank conversation for Castiel to understand that it’s a product of his upbringing rather than lack of enjoyment; that, he could accept without question. If this were just a blowjob he would expect these breathy little noises and nothing more. Dean with two fingertips massaging his prostate was an entirely different animal. The fingers in Castiel’s hair tightened to a punishing grip. Dean cried out, bent his knees to try to force Cas’ digits deeper, and let his head fall back onto the door with a thump. His hips swiveled between Castiel’s mouth and hand – not enough to choke, but enough that Castiel had to use his other hand to press Dean back into the wall. It wouldn’t be enough to hold him still but it was a solid effort at least.

“Cas, _Cas_ , oh god,” Dean panted, “so fucking good, just like that.”

If Castiel’s lips weren’t stretched wide he’d smirk. He shuffled his own knees apart, curling up and straining in his pants. The combination of smugness and arousal was a good one.

He pulled back, heaving for breath. As tempting as it was to go harder on that hard spot inside Dean’s ass, he kept up the firm, gentle pressure and sought his lover’s eyes. He looked lost, wrecked. What did he see staring down at Cas now? Was he just as ruined with his chin sopping wet, lips swollen, his hair a ruffled mess?

“God, what you do to me,” Castiel whispered.

Determined, he jacked Dean’s cock hard and fast, timing both hands together. Dean whimpered and writhed in wild abandon. The man was a sybarite under the right touch and Castiel’s heart leapt to watch him in the throes of such pleasure. Just as Dean started gasping out a warning that he was close – and how could Cas not know, the way that beautiful dick strained and dribbled? – Castiel leaned forward to take the glans between his lips. With a ragged shout Dean spent himself on Castiel’s waiting tongue, hot and bitter and satisfying.

“You,” Dean groaned, eyes wide and fixed on Castiel’s mouth. He let go of the blue-streaked hair he’d been hanging on to and slid his hand down to cup Cas’ face. There was reverence in the strokes of his knuckles across cheekbone and jaw. “You’re…fuckin’ amazing.”

Cas sucked his teeth, pulled out carefully, and stripped the glove off.

“I,” he crooned back, throwing as much promise into his tone as he could muster, “skipped lunch.”

It took a moment, but when Dean caught on his grin grew even wider. Castiel’s jaw and hand were sore, but by god, was it worth it to kneel in dazzlement of that smile. He placed a soft, teasing kiss to the tip of Dean’s cock and pulled himself upright. Before he could turn away, Dean grabbed him by either shoulder and kissed him hard and greedy, moaning softly at the taste of himself on his lover’s tongue.

It took two firm hands pressing back on Dean’s chest to break away. “I’m gonna wash up,” Castiel murmured against his jaw. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Dean swayed on his feet but stayed put, grinning at the ceiling as Castiel made his way to the shower.

 

-o0o-

 

Rinsing out, washing up, and working himself open in the shower wasn’t as fast a process as Castiel would prefer, but at least it would give Dean time to recover for round two. With two fingers working deep inside himself he kept thinking back to the glassy-eyed abandon he’d watched on Dean’s face such a short time ago. It was so, so tempting to knead circles on his own prostate or to jerk himself off with the echoes of his lover’s desperate moans still ringing in his ears. Somehow, Castiel managed to resist. Delaying his climax would only make it better when he came.

Fingering himself in the shower was just awkward enough to keep the edge off, too. Castiel scissored and rolled his fingers until he was satisfied with how loose he’d become: just enough to anticipate some burn. Grunting, he extracted his hand, washed it, and made his way back to the bedroom still toweling off.

He found Dean sprawled out across the bed fully nude. Castiel’s tongue swiped across his lips as he took in the sight of all that skin, lightly-dusted with hair and punctuated by scars. Some part of him wondered how long it would be, hanging around with the brothers Winchester, until he had scars like those himself. Well, as long as they didn’t mess up his tattoo; for dead certain they wouldn’t make Dean any less attracted.

“Nice and clean?” Dean asked, eyes raking up and down Castiel’s body. He reached down to scratch through his public hair with a gentle gesture like stroking a harp. Already his cock was filling in; Cas didn’t really have to wonder if Dean had been imagining what was going on in that shower.

“Inside and out,” Castiel nodded. He laid the towel down on the bed – never mind that it was damp – and slunk up beside Dean, catching that beautiful red mouth in a kiss. Dean’s hands bracketed his face. When Castiel shivered it had nothing to do with being cold. His lover’s callused hands scrubbed through his hair and down his shoulders, his side, followed the lines of his back down to cup his ass and gently squeeze. Castiel broke the kiss to groan in anticipation, and shifted his legs for easier access. Dean kissed him through the sharper whines he made at the sweet stretch of a finger pulling at his rim.

“Yeah.” Dean kissed his eyelids, his cheekbones. “You want it, sweetheart?”

Castiel could only whimper at first, but Dean waited until he found words. Always so patient, his Dean, at least when it mattered. “I want it,” Cas agreed.

“Turn over, I’ll give it to you,” Dean murmured in his ear. With a groan, Castiel complied, grabbing a pillow to stuff under his own belly for support. The bed jostled as Dean rolled off and stalked around to settle on his knees behind Cas. Both hands hooked under Castiel’s ass to guide him a little further up the bed until they were both more or less comfortable.

Castiel sighed and watched over his shoulder as bed he could as Dean leaned over his body, kissing and mouthing his way down Cas’ spine. A peck to a spot on the left, under Castiel’s shoulder blade, made him giggle: Dean had kissed the ink tiger on the head. Hands rubbing in a pseudo-massage along Castiel’s sides, Dean kept working his way down. Anticipation buzzed under Castiel’s skin. It made him writhe and gasp the closer Dean came to the swell of his ass; the scratch of stubble against the inside of an ass cheek had him whimpering.

“Easy, baby, I got you,” Dean soothed. His breath was hot against Castiel’s hole but not half as hot as the tongue that followed. The noise Castiel made was in no way dignified. They shared a little chuckle over it before Dean got down to work.

Oh, oh, he ate ass like a pro. Castiel was a wreck in moments, knees trembling, sweat beading up along his back and brow, mouth hanging open and unable to catch the sounds coming out of him. He had to be careful, so careful not to buck back against Dean’s face. The last thing he’d want to do is break the man’s nose when he’s being so, so nice. Nice, and good, and sweet, so so good to him, and distantly he knew he was babbling it aloud among the moans. Dean’s tongue pressed into him, lapped at him, spelled out sigils on his flesh and wound him up like a giant coil. He couldn’t help a little jerk of his hips just to get some friction on his cock: he was so hard it nearly hurt not to be touched, and the pillow he was ruining wasn’t nearly enough.

Suffering never felt so sweet.

Dean replaced his tongue with his fingers and gave Castiel what he’d purposefully denied himself in the shower: rough fingertips rubbing across his prostate, sparking fire and lightning up his spine. Dean’s other hand wrapped around the base of Castiel’s cock and the pressure was so good he had to sob, even as it held him back.

“You ready for me, Cas?” He sounded so calm it was unfair. If Castiel didn’t know him better he’d’ve missed the little tremor in his voice.

A rebellious part of him wanted to say _No, keep doing that, I want to spend the rest of my life here with your tongue inside me_ – but Castiel nodded, clearing his throat so he could speak. He rose up on his forearms to buy a moment more.

“Been ready,” he sassed, wiggling his hips. He laughed breathlessly at the open-ended smack his ass earned for the trouble.

Dean moved away to fetch lube (Castiel couldn’t bring himself to be too irritated that it wasn’t already on hand), slicking himself up on the return, and knelt behind Cas again. The wet head of Dean’s cock was like another kiss to Castiel’s hole, and this time he did push back against it. Far broader that two fingers, it pinched and burned a little as Dean slid home, but god was it a welcome kind of pain. They took it as slow as Cas allowed them; he set the pace, and Dean followed his every little cue as if it were a direct order. When Cas stilled, Dean stilled; when Cas hissed, he pulled back a hair’s breadth; when Cas sighed and opened his knees wider and pressed back, groaning, Dean gripped the crest of his hips and pulled their bodies close.

“So good,” Cas whispered. “You can move now.”

And move he did: slow, deep, and hard right out of the gate, rolling his hips to rub the head of his cock hard against Cas’ prostate every time he slid into the welcoming clutch of his body. Castiel bit the edge of the towel to hold back his loudest noises but let the rest fall from his open lips as they may, a one-two beat of moans and skin against skin. He rocked back against each thrust and gradually they came faster, sharper – he rose up higher and Dean helped support him with a hand on his chest, squeezing the firm muscle of his pec. It made Dean work harder to get a good, deep thrust but freed Castiel’s hand to stroke his own cock in time.

Dean hooked his chin over Castiel’s shoulder to watch. “Yeah, just like that, jack it for me, honey,” he breathed. “You’re so damn hot, you know that? So good for me. Wanna see you come, Cas, come for me, I know you love coming with my cock inside you.”

And Castiel couldn’t help but obey.

He tuned in to the tight heat gathered in the base of his gut, the deep erotic slide of his lover fucking him hard and fast, the crackle of pleasure from his sweet spot, the honeyed voice in his ear. His balls drew tight (and Dean’s were too, slapping into his perineum with obscene little smacks) and he gripped tight and _blew_ – every muscle taut, breath loud and choked-off, the cock inside him feeling _huge_ as he clenched around it and came, and came.

A black-sighted breath later he was leaning against Dean’s chest, skin to sweaty skin, held up by the strong circle of Dean’s arms and coaxed back to the world by Dean’s lips against his neck.

“Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. God I love watching you come,” Dean said. Cas could feel him grinning, and a warmth in the seat of his chest answered the glow in Dean’s voice.

Castiel twisted to kiss him, breathless and deep, before sinking back down to hands and knees. “Your turn.”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered. He started off gently again, mindful of overstimulating his boyfriend, but soon built up to a fever pitch. It was all Cas could do to stay upright, whimpering and cursing his own refractory period because god _damn_ was it hot when Dean pulled out all the stops and fucked him wild. Just on the edge of pain Dean slammed into him, held them tight, and wet heat burst deep inside Castiel as Dean came again. He chased Dean’s cock with impulsive little thrusts as he pulled out; Dean smooched each ass cheek in turn, and rubbed them fondly as Castiel sank down into a puddle of fluids and boneless bliss.

They let the world stand still for a minute or three before hitting the shower again. The towel Castiel had set down caught enough of their mess that there wasn’t a wet spot to avoid. He gave himself top marks for preparation altogether.

Later, they curled up loosely in each other’s arms and rode out the silent stretch of insomnia before they managed sleep. Terrifying undead monsters notwithstanding, the day had gone more or less exactly as Castiel had planned.

 

-o0o-

 

“So I was thinking,” Sam said over breakfast the next morning, pointedly not looking at either of them, “how about we don’t get rooms right next to each other anymore?”

Castiel was pretty damned sure his ears went as red as Sam’s, but Dean, at least, laughed himself sick. Couldn’t hurt to plan ahead maybe a little bit more.


End file.
